


Strings

by StAnni



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, F/M, Feels, Porn With Plot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 00:26:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17797583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StAnni/pseuds/StAnni
Summary: At some point, he knows, something will shift again, he will become jealous, she will become distant and some day, eventually, something will turn and either she’ll be gone or she will be with him.But right now, he’s happy to receive what she is willing to give.





	Strings

She runs her fingers up behind his neck and into his hair. She has always preferred that he wears it just a bit longer, just enough for her to grab – which she does now, a smile forming at the corners of her mouth as she slips her leg over him – straddling him in his study chair. “Enough work” She says and she is just slightly tipsy perhaps – or still just on a buzz from her night out. It’s been three nights since she came around, he’d be worried if he didn’t know her – which is what he could say to her, but the truth is, he’s always just a bit worried. 

He leans his head back, into her grip, and regards her with quiet eyes. When he doesn’t jab back, she slides up against him, her lips close to his. “Play time, Bruce.” 

Mostly, she initiates – and it is simply because she is the one who comes and goes as she pleases. He doesn’t move against her but also doesn’t stop her from running a hand down between them, gripping him firmly by his hardness. He’s just a man, after all. “See? You’re game.”

And to that he does smile, because it’s Selina, and it’s them, and sure he had to meet her when they were too young and reckless to be careful with each other, but they are intrepid, if nothing else, and they still find ways and means to persevere. The latest being this little carnal arrangement between them.

“I’m game.” He confirms dryly and she licks into his mouth on the upstroke, catching him mid-gasp. She is certainly adept. 

It used to be that he would fall into her, get lost in her like a haze of drugs – and then afterwards berate himself for having given in, given so much of himself over – without getting anything in return. He used to not know how love worked – in that it didn’t work, there was no tit for tat, there was no equal balance. It was just that either you loved or you were loved.

These days, because it has been relatively civil and because she hasn’t shown interest in a passer-by for some time, and perhaps because on his twenty ninth birthday she stayed until dawn just because she asked - he will take what he gets from her without ultimatums – and if, for now, it is a string of no-string attached hook-ups, then so be it. 

At some point, he knows, something will shift again, he will become jealous, she will become distant and some day, eventually, something will turn and either she’ll be gone or she will be with him.

But right now, he’s happy to receive what she is willing to give.

She slides down between his knees and parts them as she goes. Her fingers make light work of his belt and fly and he can’t help but arch his back at the pleasure of her warm mouth around his cock. She hums at his fingers gripping her curls and, as it usually does, it becomes a little more on the side of rough than tender within seconds. 

Eventually he fears he won’t be able to hold back and pulls her up, firmly, by her neck – and pushing up her short leather skirt as he stands up against her, lifts her back on his study desk. 

He enters her without preface, as is the way they do it these days, and she moans as he drives in deep – home – pulling her hips towards him. The desk thud softly against the bookshelf with each hard thrust and she pulls at his shirt, gripping for purchase as he increases his pace. Before long the feel of her shaking apart against him – tightening around him – sets him over the edge and he holds her down, his fingers probably bruising her wrists as he pushes roughly, shuddering his release and spilling inside of her.

There is the familiar pang when he leans away from her, when he doesn’t have that skin to skin connection with her any longer. 

Her eyes are closed, her breathing – heavy and sated as she lies, the insides of her sleek thighs glistening with the both of them, sprawled on his desk. He will love her forever. Forever. With her eyes closed he can mouth the word, “love” soundlessly.

Then he leans down to kiss her to life – and she opens her eyes, soul green, and smiles against his mouth before she catches his lips with her own. “I’ll give you half an hour, then we go again.”


End file.
